Bed Bugs
Between two sleeping lovers we, in this valley, live;
and watch as the air bites at our faces how they rumble and turn,
pulling their thick grey blankets about them,
trapping us in their warmth.
Their ankles intertwined, they lay
ignorant to the populous that crawls about their frames.
I tell her that she is my friend,
whisper it in her silent ear as I walk about her ample bosom
to stare in awe at her match, only a frigid breath away.
Their blood is tainted, as it courses between glossy boulders,
by our waste that seeps into their autumnal sheets;
but we will not be here when they awake,
when they stretch and shake off their earthy sheets,
for all of our bustling and milling about our electronic highways,
we will be gone when at last they nestle closer to enjoy the warmth of morning.
(November 17, 1999)
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